


Unstoppable

by pastelaliens



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Fluff, Gentleness, M/M, VictUuri, if there's enough interest i might add further chapters!!, it's my first yoi fic so be kind to me, just a wittle ficlet to dip my toes in, set immediately after the grand prix finals, that would be canon compliant and exploring the victuuri relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-20
Updated: 2019-06-20
Packaged: 2020-05-15 08:41:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 972
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19292209
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pastelaliens/pseuds/pastelaliens
Summary: ...there is his tether, gentler and more familiar a hand slipping into his own, pulling him from the cosmos and back down to earth despite being a star plucked from the sky and made human himself. Victor, glowing from the inside— always, of course, but now it’s with pride, too, etched into the smile pulling the corners of his mouth. So many times Yuri had admired that smile as a child, a teenager, an adult, but now he knows it more intimately, can tell when it’s stretched taut for a camera and when it’s sincere. There are no cameras here; the smile is for him and he can’t help the way his gaze flickers to it.





	Unstoppable

With the _click_ of a closing hotel door they leave Barcelona behind, and the sudden quiet makes Yuri feel as though he’s stepping into the vacuum of silent space, the ground gone from beneath his feet. The press of bodies after his victory had been constant, hands taking his and pumping up and down in congratulations for his record breaking (though not winning) performance, others patting him sometimes too hard on the back, others ruffling his hair from its slicked-back style. Now it’s done and he can take a deep breath, fill his lungs with air, inflate and float away on the wind like a balloon.

But there is his tether, gentler and more familiar a hand slipping into his own, pulling him from the cosmos and back down to earth despite being a star plucked from the sky and made human himself. Victor, glowing from the inside— always, of course, but now it’s with pride, too, etched into the smile pulling the corners of his mouth. So many times Yuri had admired that smile as a child, a teenager, an adult, but now he knows it more intimately, can tell when it’s stretched taut for a camera and when it’s sincere. There are no cameras here; the smile is for him and he can’t help the way his gaze flickers to it.

“Yuri,” Victor says in his particular way, and Yuri will never tire of hearing it, “are you here with me?” Even after all this time, it still takes courage for Yuri to take that step toward him, though lately he’s done it with far less trembling. Another step. One more and then he leans forward, lets his body fall against Victor’s, lets his face disappear against his collar. He murmurs, “I’m here,” the strain of exhaustion in his voice but the edges of it softened with relief. A rumble of laughter starts deep in Victor’s chest and Yuri wants to press his ear to it.

The contact doesn’t last as long as Yuri would have preferred— all night, or forever— and Victor steps back, lets go of Yuri’s hand and reaches out. “Let’s tuck this away somewhere safe,” he says, lifting the silver medal from around Yuri’s neck. Yuri’s eyes go wide as he watches it, having forgotten it was even there, though with it gone he feels much lighter. Victor rummages through the bag on Yuri’s bed, searching for the box they’d been given to store it.

“Are you disappointed?” Yuri asks, not for the first time, his voice a little distant as if he’s trying to separate himself from his own question— just in case the answer, this time, hurts him. All the other replies had been brief, noncommittal, waved away citing a lack of privacy, something they hadn’t gotten from the moment Yuri stepped off the second-highest podium. “You wanted to kiss a gold medal.”

Silver is no easy feat, no small victory, Yuri knows. It’s something he never would have been able to achieve on his own— not for lack of ability, but for lack of confidence, which Victor had helped him find over these past months. Certainly he is not the same man he’d been when they’d started but he allows himself this small insecurity, reasons that he can’t be expected to be totally self-assured one hundred percent of the time. And here, especially, with Victor, it’s okay.

“Mmm,” comes a thoughtful sound. Yuri tries to interpret its meaning, Victor’s face still turned away from him. “I did say that, didn’t I.” He concentrates on his task for, Yuri thinks, far too long; it takes what feels like years for the box to snap closed, the medal now sitting safely on its velvet cushion. Finally, Victor turns around, and it’s with some anxiety that Yuri looks on his face to see a mouth set in a grim line. His brain tells him to run when Victor begins walking toward him but his feet remain planted. His pulse, though, bursts into a gallop, runs far, far away as Yuri wishes he could. The stretch of silence— brief, in reality, but to Yuri an eternity— sends his heart into a panic, knocking against the spires of his ribcage in an attempt to hollow him out.

But then Victor is standing in front of him and sliding his arms around Yuri’s waist and pulling him closer and letting his expression soften. “I _did_ say I wanted to kiss a gold medal,” he says, “but I could be satisfied with kissing the skater who holds a world record.”

The words do nothing to slow the too-fast beating of his heart. “Victor—” he manages to choke out, though what words he meant to follow the name with, he has no idea. It doesn’t matter; Victor leans toward him and Yuri closes his eyes, his breath shaking on the inhale, his hands holding tightly onto Victor’s arms to keep him upright.

Soft lips land gently onto his right cheek and linger a little too long before moving to the left one. Victor must be able to feel the heat of a blush in Yuri’s cheeks but the shame of that doesn’t hit him quite yet, all thoughts and feelings overwhelmed with this, the chastest of kisses. Yuri swallows once, digs deep to find his voice— quite a feat, one even more impressive than his performance in the Grand Prix Finals, because who wouldn’t struggle to do so standing in Victor’s embrace? His eyes are still closed when he asks, “Are you satisfied now?”

There is that laugh again, sweet as anything, and Yuri can’t help his own answering smile, dazed as it must look to Victor, whose gaze Yuri can feel on his face. Victor says, “It’s a start,” and holds Yuri all the faster when his knees go weak.

**Author's Note:**

> i'm not new to the yoi fandom but i'm def new to creating content for it!! if you wanna be my yoi friend you can find me on twit @paybackisawitch


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